Two friends ask each other questions
Episode song - Wise Man by Casual Yak
At Jack's Cabin Up the road, Sage and white rocks Meet; Gusts test The hats of tourists; The painted hills Stained against heaven. Here, The horses hint At silence. I Walk away, down To the river. The water Rushes around the rocks. The wind drowns.
On Youtube - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l07G0dGoafE
Song: What They Told Me - Arch Narcissist
Which skill would you choose to be world class at? Favorite Time of Day? Favorite Historical Figures? Important Mentors? Why typewriters?
Album currently listening to? Best Purchase? Current Projects? Favorite color? Favorite Book? Favorite Movie? Hardest thing about the year? Best thing about the year? Overall impression of the year? Goals for next year? Current thoughts about spirituality?
When I consider how my light is spent By John Milton When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?” I fondly ask. But patience, to preventThat murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His stateIs Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o'er Land and Ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait.”
Daniel Koestner, a PhD in Ocean Optics, joins us to discuss science and the ocean.
This week we have Aileen Cheatham, certified facilitator for The Work of Byron Katie, answer some questions and do a session of The Work.
Nostos Louise Gluck There was an apple tree in the yard — this would have been forty years ago — behind, only meadows. Drifts of crocus in the damp grass. I stood at that window: late April. Spring flowers in the neighbor's yard. How many times, really, did the tree flower on my birthday, the exact day, not before, not after? Substitution of the immutable for the shifting, the evolving. Substitution of the image for relentless earth. What do I know of this place, the role of the tree for decades taken by a bonsai, voices rising from tennis courts — Fields. Smell of the tall grass, new cut. As one expects of a lyric poet. We look at the world once, in childhood. The rest is memory.
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